Every Last Moment
by Ultimate Queen of Cliffies
Summary: A somewhat extended version of As Long As You're Mine, including a bit of AU speculation on how the cornfield scene could have gone. Three-shot. Fiyeraba, of course. Tied 1st place Best General in the 2016 Greg Awards.
1. Part I

**Part I**

Somewhere along the way – after he had stolen the lantern from the front of a house just outside the City, but before they had entered the forest – Fiyero had taken her hand and he had been surprised at how small it felt in his.

She'd always been so strong, armouring herself with sarcasm and witty comebacks. She was constantly fighting; she had been ever since he had first met her. She fought for recognition at first, for just a little bit of kindness from someone, anyone, around her. She fought for her sister, for Dr Dillamond, and for a caged Lion cub. After that, she fought for the Animals and for what she believed was right, no matter the cost. She'd put on a brave face and acted tough even as a schoolgirl and he could only imagine how much worse that had to have gotten over time.

Her hand felt so small, though.

Cold, too, even after he had encased it in his own, which was much larger and warmer than hers. Despite that fact, her fingers still felt like ice. The feeling of her hand in his was, more than anything, what made him realise she was really still just a girl. More of a woman now than she had been when she'd left, but still a girl, not even twenty-five yet. He thought she had to be an old soul, if one believed in such things, and she acted much older than her age, but none of those things could change the truth. She had only barely outgrown her teenage years. A girl on the run from the authorities, a girl chased around the country by Oz's strongest soldiers, a girl inspiring terror in the hearts of people without ever having done anything to warrant such a reaction. She did what most people didn't have the courage to do: she fought for what she believed in and she was punished for it in the worst possible way.

He looked back at her and saw the dark shadows in her face, the tiredness she was trying to hard to hide. He gently tugged her to a halt.

"Let's stop here," he said quietly. "We've come far enough for tonight."

She protested, but he shushed her. "Fae, I know the way my men operate. They won't find us here tonight."

She pulled her hand out of his. She instantly missed the warmth of his fingers, but she had to think clearly. "Don't call me that."

She wanted to yell at him for being so stupid, for leaving Glinda and becoming a fugitive for her. She wanted to shake some sense into him and shout into his ear that he didn't love her, he couldn't, and that he had to go back. She didn't _want_ to believe he loved her, because it would be such a foreign concept to grasp that that in itself scared her more than she was willing to admit. Until now, he had been off-limits and therefore safe; just a dream she knew would never come true. Now, though, he had become much more than that.

She watched warily as he knelt on the forest floor and placed the lantern there before looking up at her, his face uncharacteristically open. She was used to him putting on the mask of a happy playboy prince, but there was no trace of that mask now and that was why she couldn't say any of those things to him. She could see the truth in his eyes. Silently, he held out his hand to her; and she found herself approaching him. She slipped her fingers into his and he smiled as she sat down on her knees across from him, taking him in without saying a word.

He cupper her chin, gently brushing some stray strands of hair away from her face with his other hand, and he brought her closer. She breathed his name right before their lips met and she knew then that she was lost. If she'd read him wrong, if what she'd seen in his face had been wishful thinking rather than the truth, he might just be doing this in order to get close enough to be able to plunge a knife into her back. She found she didn't even really care if he did. At least she'd have had this one moment of utter bliss with him.

He didn't reach for a knife, though, nor did he push her away and laugh at the cruel prank he'd played on her by making her believe he loved her. He just slowly deepened the kiss and pulled her closer, his fingers digging into her waist almost urgently. She shuddered a little and he drew back just enough to be able to look into her eyes, his forehead against hers and his one hand still on her face.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, concern clouding his usually so bright blue eyes. "Are you cold? We can't make a fire, but I could –"

She shook her head and pressed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. "I'm fine," she told him. She sighed, sitting back a little. "Yero…"

"Don't," he said, so fiercely it almost made her jump. "Elphaba, don't you dare start telling me that I shouldn't be here, or that I don't know what I'm doing, or that I can't love you – or whatever crap you were about to tell me."

She opened her mouth, but he wasn't finished yet. "I'm done pretending and I'm too tired of constantly explaining my actions to everyone to sit here talking with you for hours as I try to convince you that I really am serious about this. I've searched for you for almost three years. I left Glinda for you, I made myself a fugitive for you, and then I kissed you in a pitch-black forest in the dead of night knowing we'll be hunted in the morning; and do you know what? I've never been so happy. I think I've made my intentions towards you pretty clear. So unless _you_ don't want me here…"

The uncertainty in his voice made her pause and with a start, she realised that he was serious. "You think I don't love you?" She couldn't help it – the mere thought was so ridiculous she laughed out loud. "Silly man," she murmured, leaning in closer. She was shivering, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the cold rising from the damp forest floor or because of all the emotions warring inside of her. "I suppose you always were a little brainless."

A hopeful smile broke through on his face and she studied him, looking deep into his eyes.

"I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to," she said softly. "But I need to be absolutely sure that this is what you want, Yero. You can't go back. You've lost Glinda now and everything you had." She winced a little at the mention of her best friend, but Fiyero just took her hand in his and squeezed it softly.

"I've never been sure of many things in my life," he confessed, pulling her closer again and enfolding her in his arms. "But I'm sure about this. Fae, I've searched for you from the moment you left. I was in love with you even at Shiz."

"The Lion cub," she breathed and he looked down at her, startled, as he realised what she meant.

"You mean…? You, too?"

She blushed and nodded and now it was his turn to chuckle, even though he noticed she looked a little wistful. "What is it?"

"We could have had so much more time together," she said sadly. "I've been so stupid, Fiyero…"

"Not stupid," he told her firmly. "Never you. Don't do this, Fae, please." He nuzzled her neck, pressing soft kisses to the green skin there, and she tilted her head a little to the side to give him more access. "There's only now," he whispered against her skin as her eyes fluttered shut. "Let's make the most of whatever time we have tonight."

She nodded, her eyes still closed, and he smiled. She was still shaking a little, but as he gently rubbed his hands up and down her back and arms, her shivering slowly stopped. "You know?" she mumbled as her fingers started an exploration of their own, feeling the hard muscles of his arms and shoulders underneath his shirt and then trailing down his chest. She was smirking slightly. "You never actually did tell me you love me."

He stilled and thought about it. Realising she was right, he shook his head and wound his fingers through hers, bringing their joined hands up to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "Well, I love you, Elphaba Thropp," he told her, cupping her face again and kissing her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, and finally her lips, whispering his adoration for her between kisses. "I love you," he sighed, her body so close to his now that he could feel her heart pounding even through the fabric of her tattered dress. He guided her hand to his own chest and laid her palm flat against it so she could feel how hard his own heart was beating. It made her smile.

"Say it again," she whispered, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

He kissed her ear. "I love you," he said into it, his lips migrating down to her jaw and then her throat before pulling away. "Wait. Are you just trying to get me to make a fool out of myself? Making me say it a thousand times and then do that creepy witch cackle in my face, tell me you don't actually love me back, and leave me here alone?"

He was joking – mostly, anyway – but her face softened and she cradled his face between her hands, kissing him softly. "I love you, too, Yero," she said, knowing that was what he wanted to hear. She kissed him a little harder. "How could I not?"

He grinned a goofy, lopsided grin at her and then hauled her back to him, kissing her deeply and fiercely and loving the little noise of surprise she made in her throat. They both knew it could all be over by morning, but for now they simply did not care.

When she eventually pulled away, he could see instantly that something was wrong. "Fae?"

She took a deep breath and attempted a smile, but failed. "I just…" She fidgeted with some loose threads on her dress. "I just wish I could be beautiful for you," she muttered, lowering her eyes. "And don't tell me I am," she added before he could say anything. "You don't have to lie to me."

His heart broke for her when he heard that and he scooted closer, taking her hands in his own. Glinda had told him once how insecure Elphaba had always been about her looks, mainly her skin, but he hadn't actually understood how deep that went. He supposed he'd never really gotten close enough to her for that, but he was determined to change that now. He shook his head at her, reaching up to gently stroke her cheek.

"It's not lying," he told her. "It's just looking at things another way."

She gave him a watery smile that clearly told him she appreciated the effort, but she didn't believe him for a clock-tick. He sighed and put his arms back around her. "Come here, you. And then you call _me_ silly?" he asked her incredulously. "Fae, I promise you that you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen in my life."

She scoffed. "Then either you've never looked at another girl in your life, which I somehow sincerely doubt," she shrieked when he tickled her as revenge for that remark, "or you need to get your eyesight checked."

"Or _you_ ," he retorted, "need to look into a mirror."

She shook her head and he put his chin on her shoulder. "I'll show you," he promised her. "Someday, somehow, I'll show you exactly how beautiful you are to me."

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but then her face suddenly contorted and she doubled over, gasping as if in pain.

"Elphaba!" he exclaimed, startled and alarmed by her behaviour. "What's wrong?"

"Nessa," she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut and clutching her waist. "Nessa is in danger."

Fiyero was panicking – her face had paled and he could see the panic in her own eyes as well, which didn't reassure him in the slightest. "How do you know?" he demanded.

"I don't know!" she cried. "I just do!" She sucked in another breath and Fiyero rubbed her back, hoping that would help just a little bit. He had no idea how she could know that something was wrong with her sister, but he'd seen enough of her magic to know that he'd just have to take her word for it.

She struggled weakly against him. "I have to go!"

"I'll go with you," he said immediately, rising to his feet and pulling her up as well. He kept her hands in his even as she shook her head and tried to step back.

"No," she said. "It's too dangerous."

He nodded, recognising that arguing with her would be of no use, and he told her about Kiamo Ko – his family's castle where no-one would find her if she managed to keep the sentries from spotting her.

"Meet me there," he said, squeezing her hand softly. It felt warmer now than it had a few hours earlier.

She looked down at their hands and when she asked if they would see each other again, there was such apprehension in her voice, such fear and at the same time so much hope, that he could only reassure her. "We're going to be together always," he promised her, even though he knew as well as she did that even if neither of them got killed today, 'always' was a period of time they probably would not have together – or at all.

The small smile she gave him, though, lifted his heart and he returned it. She laid her hand against the side of his face for a moment. "Be careful," she whispered.

He turned his head and kissed her palm. "You, too."

A few minutes later, it was like she had never even been there; and he could only hope they would indeed see one another again.


	2. Part II

**I love how you all seem to think there'll be a major character death. I'm not making any promises...**

* * *

 **Part II**

A single kiss on the lips – hard, but brief. Then she had pulled her hands out of his and mounted her broom, flying off into the night. That was all. That was their last good-bye. Or, well, she didn't really count the hurried "Elphaba, go!" he'd shouted at her a few minutes ago at the spot where Nessarose had died. The spot where _he_ was going to die if she didn't do anything.

That hurried good-bye was all she could think about and it made her feel sick to her stomach. They'd had so little time together as it was and she had wasted it by flying to the aid of someone she couldn't even help anymore – by flying straight into the trap that had been set up for her. If she hadn't been stupid enough to fall for it, Fiyero wouldn't have had to come out and save her and he wouldn't be up on a pole in this cornfield now.

He'd told her to go, but she couldn't. She couldn't just leave him behind. She'd fled between the cornstalks and stayed there, searching for the place where the Gale Force soldiers had taken Fiyero. She had to save him. She couldn't leave him and she couldn't let him die; she couldn't let that single, short kiss be their last.

She crept between the cornstalks, which were taller than she was. She couldn't see anything and she had to rely on her ears to try and determine where the shouting was coming from. Constantly vigilant, her head swivelling back and forth so she would notice every potential threat coming at her, she made her way to the spot where the man she loved was being whipped and beaten.

Elphaba almost never cried, but when she caught sight of Fiyero, she had to clamp both hands over her mouth to stifle a sob. He was hanging from a pole like a broken scarecrow as the Gale Force members circled him like predators circling their prey, taunting him. One of them was holding a whip; another a long stick. The third one seemed to be their leader, standing a bit off to the side. Fiyero's shirt was torn, both at the front and the back, and she could see the angry red stripes the whiplashes had left on his skin. He had a black eye, a bleeding cut on his forehead, and a dark bruise on his jaw.

Even as she watched, the leader barked, "Tell us where the witch went!"

Fiyero – stupid, stubborn, wonderful, brave Fiyero – just clenched his jaw and didn't say anything. The leader of the guards nodded at the other two and the stick was slammed into Fiyero's stomach so hard it made Elphaba wince. Fiyero winced, too, and let out a breathless "oomph", but he didn't lose the glint of determination in his eyes.

She couldn't help the choked little noise that escaped her lips and although she was sure the Gale Force couldn't have heard, Fiyero somehow had – or maybe it was just coincidence that he looked her way at that moment. His eyes widened when he saw her and he made a jerky movement with his head that she knew meant "get out of here", but she didn't even consider doing that for a moment. There was no way she was leaving him here to die.

"Speak up, traitor!" the leader growled at Fiyero. He averted his gaze from Elphaba, probably afraid to give away her location if he looked at her for too long, and he shook his head. The leader gave a sign again and the man with the whip lashed out and Fiyero screamed, arching his back.

Elphaba had already been pulling the Grimmerie from her satchel, intending to search a spell that could help her save Fiyero; but the pain she heard in his voice was enough to trigger her magic on its own. She could feel it burning inside of her, making its way to the surface and sending emerald green sparks flying around her fingers. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward, out from between the cornstalks and into the Gale Force members' line of sight.

"Fae, no," Fiyero choked out, but she barely even heard him anymore. The leader of the trio started shouting at the other two to grab the witch. One of them picked up his rifle from where it had been lying on the ground and aimed it at Elphaba. Fiyero cried her name, but her magic exploded before the man could fire his rifle and before she knew it, all three Gale Force soldiers were completely frozen in place, unable to pull another muscle.

She had no idea how long the spell would last, so she dropped her broom and satchel and ran over to Fiyero, untying the ropes with nimble fingers and all but catching him as he fell forward. He buried his face in her hair, shaking his head. Unlike last night, he was the one shaking now and he clung to her, desperately holding her to him.

"Fae," he murmured, her name almost a prayer on his lips as he repeated it several times, unable to believe she was really here. "Fae, you shouldn't be here. Are you insane?"

"Are you?" she retorted as she pulled away, finding it easier to be angry with him than to let the full impact of what they had done to him – because of her – get to her. "You're the one swinging around on ropes and deliberately putting your life on the line!" She gingerly touched his jaw, making him hiss in pain. The cut on his forehead would have to be cleaned, just like those whiplashes, and he seemed to be bruised everywhere. He couldn't fly in this condition.

She glanced back at the frozen Gale Force soldiers. There were two bags lying not too far away from them and she made Fiyero lean against the pole for a moment so she could stoop down to look inside the bags. As she had hoped, one of them contained a small first aid kit and she quickly picked out some other things she could use, stuffing them inside her own satchel and then rising and moving back to Fiyero.

"Come," she said, giving him her broom to lean on and slipping beneath his other arm to support him with her body as well. "We should get out of here."

"Elphaba," he protested weakly. "Don't. You're never going to make it if you have to drag me along."

She kept tugging him forward. "Don't you get it?" she snapped at him. "I don't even _want_ to make it if I can't drag you along."

He blinked at her owlishly.

"I've been alone for a long time, Fiyero," she reminded him. "Aside from my time at Shiz, I've been alone my entire life and I don't think I can do that anymore. I'm not letting you go now and I'm certainly not letting you die. I could never live with myself. Just shut up and help me."

He did, stumbling along as she helped him through the cornfield and then out of it and into the forest. She told him she knew about a cave not too far away; she had spent quite a few nights there, she still had some food stored inside, and they'd be able to make a fire with the wood she kept there. "It's not much," she admitted, "but it's all we can do until you're fit enough for us to travel to Kiamo Ko." She stopped for a moment, allowing him to catch his breath, and she gently traced the parts of his face that weren't bruised or bleeding, a pained look on her face as her eyes softened. "I'm so sorry, Yero."

He shook his head, even though that made him cringe slightly in pain. "Don't be," he said. He covered her hand with his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's not your fault. It was my own decision and I don't regret it."

"You could have been killed," she said hotly. "If I hadn't been able to get you out of there…"

"But you did." He grabbed her shoulders, probably just to get her attention, but she could feel the weight he put on them and she realised he was unable to even hold himself up, which made her feel even guiltier. "Don't think about what could have happened. It could have been so much worse, but it's not, okay? You just said you couldn't live with yourself if you let me die. Well, I couldn't live with myself if I watched them capture you and did nothing."

She wanted to say so much more, but she closed her mouth and nodded. There would be time for that discussion later.

They made their way to the cave in the forest painstakingly slowly, stopping as often as they dared so Fiyero had some time to recover. She made him eat and drink something every time, mentally thanking the Gale Force soldiers for the food and water she'd found in their bags. By the time they reached the cave, it was late afternoon already and Elphaba carefully lowered Fiyero to the raggedy blanket she'd left on the floor the last time she'd been here. This particular cave was a place she'd spent quite a few nights in, which was why she usually left some supplies behind so she wouldn't have to drag them around. She had a few relatively safe spots like this one scattered around Oz, since she couldn't stay in one place for too long.

She lit a fire and gathered everything she owned that she could possibly use to treat his wounds, but she already knew it would not be enough. She could only hope the first aid kit contained some useful items. She wasn't sure where to start, since he was hurt in so many ways; she ended up just working her way down, beginning by cleaning the cut on his forehead. It obviously needed stitches and thankfully, she found some thread and a small needle inside the kit, which she used to gingerly stitch him up. She had to be hurting him, but to his credit, he didn't say anything – just clenched his teeth and grimaced a little.

When she had finished taking care of his face, she moved lower, cleaning the whiplashes one of his own men had left on his chest, back, and shoulders. She murmured an apology when he hissed in pain, but he stopped her for a moment.

"Don't," he said.

She frowned. "Fiyero, I need to clean this."

He shook his head. "Don't feel guilty," he clarified. "I know you. I can tell."

"Do you?" she asked wearily, sitting back for a moment. "Do you really know me? We've been friends for a while, then we haven't seen or spoken to each other in three years, and now after a single night you claim to know me?" She didn't speak her fears aloud – that he had given up his life, his future, and his chances at happiness, not to mention tried to sacrifice himself, for someone he didn't even really know. That he would realise that soon and leave her again. After knowing what it felt like to be loved this way… she wasn't sure if she could take it if he did. She'd been alone for so long it had numbed her, but in that one night, he had completely brought her back to life and now she didn't think she could go back.

"I do," he insisted, reaching out to gently touch her chin, making her look at him. "You always saw through me, Fae, but you forget that it takes one to know one. You may have seemed mysterious and closed-off to the rest of the world, but you've always been an open book to me – after that whole Lion cub debacle, anyway. That hasn't changed."

She took his other hand, but he pulled it away with a grimace and she suddenly realised the fingers of that hand looked bruised and swollen. "Yero…"

"It's nothing," he tried to brush it off. "They slapped my hand with that stick a few times, too. That's all."

"That's all," she echoed, dumbfounded. Gingerly, she took his hand again and carefully felt his fingers. She'd had a few bruises and broken bones herself in the past three years – nothing too bad, but enough for her to have asked some Animals to teach her how to treat them just in case. "Your middle and ring fingers are broken," she concluded, searching the kit for something to use as a splint, but she couldn't find anything. She gathered some small sticks from the forest floor in the end, attaching them to the broken fingers and wrapping up his entire hand to keep him from moving it. "Anything else broken?"

He chewed his lip and she gave him a look, realising what he was doing. "Fiyero…"

"My ribs," he admitted reluctantly. "I think so, anyway."

She gently touched his ribs, trying to determine if they were broken, too, but she didn't think so. "Just badly bruised," she decided as she continued to treat his other wounds. All throughout this, he watched her, not saying anything unless she spoke first, studying her fingers as they cleaned, stitched, and bandaged him up. When she was finished, she fed him some of the food she'd found in the Gale Force soldiers' bags, figuring that was probably better than the food she'd kept in this cave for a while already; and then she made him lie down next to the fire and urged him to go to sleep. He only did so once she agreed to lie down next to him, though, and he pulled her into his arms as best as he could with his injuries.

"Fae," he whispered into her hair. "Thank you. For saving me, I mean."

"You saved me first," she pointed out, clutching his good hand in hers. "I was just returning the favour. Sleep, Fiyero. You need it."

He nodded and obediently closed his eyes. Despite the pain he had to be in, his breathing soon evened out and he was asleep.

Elphaba, however, couldn't sleep at all. She hadn't told him because she didn't want to worry him, but she was afraid he might have some internal injuries in addition to his external ones – injuries she couldn't see, but that could kill him nonetheless. Every time he so much as moved a muscle or made a sound, she tensed and studied him until she was sure he was really just sleeping.

She'd never thought she'd have this and it terrified her. She had always been convinced that no-one could love her; Glinda had proven her wrong years ago, but this… this was something different entirely and it scared her more than she was willing to admit. Especially now. They'd agreed last night that it didn't matter how much time they had, but the truth was that it did. One night was not enough. Maybe it would never be enough. She knew what it was like now and she couldn't lose him again.

He cried out in his sleep and she shot up, hoping that he was just having a nightmare. He writhed a little and her hopes fled when she saw the thin trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and the expression of pain on his face. Internal bleeding, she knew instantly, just like she had been afraid of.

He was gasping, his eyes fluttering open. "F-Fae?"

"I'm here," she whispered, cradling his head in her lap. She felt so useless. She knew enough about simple injuries – cuts, bruises, even broken bones – to be able to do something about them, but fixing internal bleeding was far beyond her grasp. In any case, he'd need surgery and there was no way she could give him that in a dirty cave in the middle of the forest, even if she did know how to. "You must have some kind of invisible injury, Yero."

"Internal bleeding," he muttered, clearly knowing what that meant. He flinched, shuddering in pain. "I'm so s-sorry, Fae," he choked out.

She knew what he was doing and it hardened her resolve. She couldn't let him die. Without moving away from him, she reached for her satchel and pulled out the Grimmerie, opening it on the first page and starting to leaf through it, desperately hoping to find something in there that could help her heal him. It was a book of transformations, right? Wasn't healing some kind of transformation, too?

He moaned. She stroked his hair soothingly. "It's okay," she cooed, not wanting to let him know how worried she was. She actually felt sick with the force of it. "It's okay, Yero, I promise. I know you're in pain, but just hold on. I won't let you die."

"Elphaba…" he breathed and she knew he was going to tell her that he _would_ die, but she didn't want to hear it.

"I love you," she told him, pausing her frantic searching for a moment to bend over him and press her forehead against his. He looked up into her eyes and she attempted a faint smile. "I love you, Yero," she said again, wanting to be sure that he knew. Just in case.

He smiled back, however painfully. "I love you, too," he whispered, bringing up his good hand to touch her face. Then he cringed again and gasped for breath. Elphaba quickly returned to her searching.

By the time she had finally found a spell – a spell she knew he would hate, but one she also knew she would cast nonetheless – he had lost consciousness, which only convinced her all the more of the fact that she had to do this. She used her sleeve to gently wipe the blood away from his mouth and pressed a shaky kiss to his lips. Then she started chanting.


	3. Part III

**Sorry it's late! I had a busy day yesterday. I said good-bye to everyone at work, which was a little sad, but mostly very nice. I'll miss them all, but I got a musical gift card ánd a book gift card as parting gifts, which makes up for it a little, haha.**

* * *

 **Part III**

When Fiyero came to, he lay there blinking at the cave ceiling for a moment, wondering where he was. He could hear that it was raining outside, but their fire was still crackling and he wasn't very cold. When he tried to move, pricks of pain shot through different parts of his body and he remembered everything that had happened. The pain seemed to be less bad now, though, which he was glad, but also confused about. He knew there had been internal bleeding and he'd really thought he wasn't going to make it. What had happened?

He slowly wiggled around until he lay on his side and then he sucked in his breath. There, next to him, lay Elphaba.

Of course there could be a logical explanation for the fact that she was lying down – the most probable one of which was that she'd grown tired and fallen asleep – but he knew she wouldn't go to sleep if she thought his life was in danger. No matter how tired she was, he knew her well enough to know for sure that she couldn't do that. Then there was the fact that her breathing was fast and shallow and her face looked pale; and when he gingerly pushed himself up into a sitting position, he could see that she was hurt. Dark bruises marred her beautiful green skin, she had a shallow cut on her forehead, and there was a grimace on her face as if she was in pain.

"Fae," he croaked, touching her arm and shaking her a little harder than he had intended. "Fae?"

She didn't move. He touched his fingers to her neck, desperately searching for a heartbeat. It was there and it was steady, too, albeit a little fainter than he'd like it to be. She was alive, but he had no idea what was wrong with her or where her injuries had come from… or why she was unconscious in the first place. How much longer would she be out? Was she going to be okay? What in Oz had happened to her?

Recognising that he could do nothing but wait for her to wake up, he lay down on his side beside her. He cradled her in his arms, only reassured as long as he could feel her light breaths against his skin and count her heartbeats beneath his fingers.

He waited.

He moved a few times to add some more wood to the fire – thankfully, she kept a stack of wood inside the cave as well, so he didn't have to leave her in order to be able to do that. He also found a thin blanket in her satchel and wrapped her up in it. Dusk set in and he took to caring for her wounds as she had done for his not too long ago, knowing he had to keep himself busy or he'd grow mad with worry. Even then, though, she still didn't wake up.

The fact that by then he had noticed the Grimmerie lying open beside the spot where he had found her didn't reassure him in the slightest. It was clear that she had cast a spell, but what kind of spell? Had someone found them and had she had to defend herself? Had she healed his internal bleeding? But then why was she hurt and why wasn't she waking up?

She eventually stirred in his arms, after what felt like hours or days of lying there worrying about her, and he felt like crying with relief. She groaned, cringing a little in pain as she sat up; and Fiyero pushed himself to a sitting position as well.

"What happened?" he demanded anxiously. "Are you all right? For Oz's sake, Fae, you've been unconscious for hours – you have no idea how worried I was! Will you be okay now? How did you get hurt? Did you fight off the Gale Force while I was unconscious or something?"

She shook her head slightly, tentatively touching one of the bruises on her face and grimacing. "No. Relax, Yero, no-one found us," she reassured him. She bit her lip, giving him an apologetic look. "I just… I had to save you."

He suddenly realised what kind of spell she must have cast from the Grimmerie. Horrified, he brought his fingers up to touch the deep cut that had been on his forehead, only to find no more than a scratch there – at the exact same spot where Elphaba now had a shallow cut as well.

"Elphaba," he breathed. "What did you _do_?!"

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair and wincing a little as she hit a sore spot – probably the same lump he still had on the back of his head from where his men had slammed his head into the pole he'd been hanging from. "It was a healing spell, but it had to draw the life force from somewhere else," she explained, sounding tired. "I couldn't make your wounds disappear without using up all my energy. I could only take them from you, or at least echoes or shadows of them – the same wounds, but less serious, in order to make them less serious for you as well. I did heal your internal wounds. I had to, otherwise you'd have died; but that drained my magic and my energy to the point where I passed out. I wish I could have healed everything else as well, but healing is a very difficult thing to do. The spell requires so much control and concentration… I'm not strong enough. I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. This was just so ridiculous. "You're _apologising_ for _saving my life_?!"

"I'm apologising for not being able to do more for you," she corrected him. She heaved a weary sigh and when he wrapped his arms around her, she didn't protest, instead leaning back against his chest and closing her eyes. "And I'm also sorry for scaring you. I guess the spell drew more out of me than I had expected… My body probably just needed to recover – replenish my energy – but I understand you were worried. I didn't know that would happen."

He nodded and touched his lips to her temple, closing his eyes for a moment. "Well… even though I don't exactly agree with you hurting yourself for my sake… thank you for saving my life."

She shook her head. "This is ridiculous," she muttered. "What are we even doing, Fiyero? All of this is just… crazy. Everything that happened from the moment you said you were coming with me last night has been insane – especially the fact that we've both risked out lives for the other multiple times already since then and how well do we even know one another?"

"Not that discussion again," he cut her off sternly. "We know each other well enough, Fae."

"And what's going to happen now?" she continued. "I needed to save your life and of course I don't regret that, but now we're _both_ hurt and there's no way we'll make it to Kiamo Ko the way we are now. I'm fairly sure I can't fly my broom properly in this condition and even if I could, you probably wouldn't even be able to hold onto me. Don't you see that we're doomed, no matter what? We're never going to make it."

He could tell she was on the verge of tears, which was something he didn't know from her and it unnerved him. "Elphaba…" He placed his chin on her shoulder. "Don't think like that," he whispered. "We came this far, didn't we? I shouldn't even be alive right now and you probably shouldn't still be walking around after running for three years, and yet here we are. We'll figure something out, I promise. We're together now. That's all that matters. Okay?"

"Is it?" she asked sadly, leaning her head back against his shoulder. He could tell she was exhausted, despite the fact that she'd only just woken up, but she seemed determined to have this conversation now. "Is it really?"

"It is for me," he said honestly. "I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that I'd rather have died on that pole today than not have had last night with you. I can promise you that I meant what I said before and I've never been so ridiculously happy in my life as now, being here with you and knowing you love me as much as I love you."

* * *

She remembered those words from him, years later, as she straightened up in the garden and gently rubbed her swollen stomach. She hadn't entirely believed him then, even though the look in his eyes had told her he'd been speaking the truth. She almost laughed out loud at how naïve she'd been back then: so worldly and mature in every sense of the word, but little more than a child when it came to matters like love.

She knew Fiyero had expected it to be a hard task, convincing her of how much he loved her; but in the end, it hadn't cost him nearly as much time and effort as he'd thought it would. Just the way he still looked at the scars that night had left her had been enough to make her believe that yes, he did care, more than anyone probably ever had – possibly aside from Glinda. Over the years, he had proved his love for her over and over again through small gestures and little things. That happy, lopsided grin he gave her every night when he returned from work and found her at home, waiting for him. The heavy, sleepy kisses with which he woke her every morning after she'd spent the night protectively wrapped in his arms. The pure and genuine joy she had seen on his face when she'd shyly told him she was pregnant and they were going to have a baby.

Smiling, she hung out the final few pieces of laundry and then picked up her empty basket, waddling back inside, where she found him stoking up a fire in the kitchen.

"Are you all right?" he asked her in concern, straightening up when he heard her enter the house. "You looked lost in thought out there for a moment."

She nodded, putting down the laundry basket and allowing him to enfold her in his arms and press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm fine," she said. "Just… remembering."

He knew those episodes of hers. She'd been having more of them since she'd fallen pregnant and although he knew she sometimes just thought of times long gone, such as growing up with Nessa or going to Shiz, and that was all; he also knew that Elphaba 'remembering' usually meant Fiyero unsuspectingly walking into a room and finding her a crying mess on the couch, sobbing over Nessa, or Glinda, or even her parents – or _his_ parents. Whenever she started thinking about the past these days, her hormones usually mixed in to make her feel sad and guilty over everything and it always took him a while to calm her down.

"Remembering what?" he asked warily, already bracing himself for an emotional breakdown. He was fairly certain he'd seen her cry more often in the past six months than he had in their entire time before her pregnancy. For her sake as well as his own, he hoped those hormonal episodes would stop once the baby was born.

"Nothing bad," she assured him quickly with an apologetic smile, aware of how much her hormones confused him. "I was thinking about… well, after you came with me."

Now _he_ looked pained, rather than her. He cupped her cheek and traced the thin line on her forehead – a scar left by a wound that hadn't even been her own. "I still think you shouldn't have done that," he muttered, heaving a sigh and running his palms down her back, where he knew more scars to be hiding underneath her clothes. She'd never been whipped, yet she bore the scars of it now. So did he, yes, but it still wasn't enough. That had been his burden to bear, not hers, and knowing she had taken his injuries for him was still something he found hard to accept. "These shouldn't be yours. They're mine."

"Ah," she said, her dark eyes twinkling. "But they _are_ yours – because _I_ 'm yours, and those scars are a part of me, too."

He wondered what was causing her good mood. Probably hormones, too. No matter what the reason, though, it made him smile. "I love you," he murmured, kissing her softly.

"I love you, too." She touched the scar on his own forehead, matching hers. "Don't feel guilty. You never allow me to feel guilty over anything, either, so don't be a hypocrite," she scolded him teasingly. "We made it, didn't we? I don't care about any of my scars as long as you don't, Yero. Oz knows I picked up enough of them during my time on the run, anyway, and I've never been particularly vain – I'm already green, remember? If they don't bother you, they don't bother me. To me, they're just proof – proof that you loved me enough to risk your life to save me, and proof that I loved you enough to do the same for you."

He'd never looked at it that way. His smile widened. "You're incredible," he said, kissing her again. "You know that, right?"

"I know," she agreed cheerfully, making him laugh. Her face fell a little, though. "I wish Glinda could be here."

He knew what would happen if he allowed her to go down that path, so he stopped her right there. "Don't," he told her. "Maybe one day, we could see her again; but for now, we have to be content with writing to her. We need to lay low, Fae. You know that as well as I do."

"Do you think they're still searching for us in Oz?" she asked quietly, laying her head against his shoulder.

He sighed. "I don't know. I'm sure they searched for a long time after we disappeared, but no Ozian ever saw us again after you helped me escape from that cornfield. It depends on how persistent they are. With Morrible gone, though, I don't think they'll still be looking very hard; most Ozians probably believe we've either died or left the country."

She still wasn't entirely sure how they had managed to escape. They'd stayed in that cave for a couple of days, recovering and deciding what to do. Realising they couldn't stay in Oz if they wanted to be safe, Fiyero had suggested using the broom to cross the Impassable Desert to Quox instead. It had been hard for Elphaba to, as she felt it, turn her back on the Animals, but she also knew there wasn't much she could do for them anymore. If she'd continued what she had been doing, it wouldn't have been long before she'd gotten herself killed and she couldn't do that to Fiyero. It was time.

That was years ago and although Elphaba found herself thinking back to their time in Oz often, especially now during her pregnancy, they were happy. About a year after their departure, the guilt over the way she had parted with Glinda had become too much to bear and Elphaba had written her friend a careful letter, not mentioning any names that could put the blonde in danger if anyone else saw them, but risking putting a return address on it. As she had hoped, Glinda had replied and the two had been writing ever since, exchanging apologies and stories of everything that had happened.

Glinda also told Elphaba that she had discovered the Wizard to actually be the green girl's father. Upon realising that, he had started making changes to his laws and policies, fired Madame Morrible, and gave Glinda a higher position in his government. Glinda explained to her friend how guilty the Wizard felt and how he was planning on clearing her name in a while, hoping she might come out of hiding if he did. Elphaba had honestly told her friend that she didn't know if she'd ever be back; too much had happened for that. Glinda, in return, had promised to keep the fact that she was in touch with Elphaba a secret from the Wizard until the green girl told her otherwise. She had also promised to find a way to visit Elphaba and Fiyero someday, but until now, it had just been too dangerous.

"Glinda will be able to visit us someday," Fiyero continued now, pulling her from her thoughts. He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled at her, kissing her forehead. "And the moment she does, we're going to be married."

He had discussed marriage with Elphaba at some point and he hadn't been surprised, really, when she'd said no. He _had_ , however, been surprised about her reasons.

"I can't get married without Glinda there, Yero," she'd explained apologetically and a little anxiously. "She's my best friend, the only friend I've ever had… the only person who ever really cared about me aside from you. She's the closest thing to a family member I have left. I need her there. She's trying to find a way to visit…"

Fiyero had simply nodded and said, "Then we'll wait until she's found a way." Which, really, had only made Elphaba love him more.

It wasn't easy, though, and even though no-one in Quox really cared about Elphaba being pregnant out of wedlock and everyone they knew was supportive, the young witch found herself missing her best friend more than ever now. The pregnancy had been unexpected, but definitely not unwanted; and this was a time she wanted to share with the people she was close to. She wanted to tell Nessa she'd be an aunt, and to ask her mother for advice, and to talk with Glinda about everything she was looking forward to and everything she was afraid of.

Still, Fiyero was being more wonderful and supportive throughout all this than she ever could have wished for; and she knew that even though Glinda wouldn't be there when the baby was born, she'd see her godchild someday. She'd be here for Elphaba and Fiyero's wedding, whenever that may be. And until then, Elphaba was perfectly content with her life as it was.

"I love you," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt him lay one palm to her stomach, the baby kicking him from the inside. "You know that, right? Even though we're not officially married yet, you're already the most perfect husband I ever could have wished for."

"I know," he shrugged casually, laughing when she swatted at his arm. "Don't worry, Fae, you have seen nothing yet," he promised her, kissing her gently. "I love you more than anything in the world and I'll try my best to be the perfect father, too." He bent down to kiss her baby bump as well, which made her tear up, but she laughed when he threw her a slightly alarmed look.

"Hormones," she sniffled and he chuckled and pulled her back into his arms.

That day after Nessa's death, now nothing more than a memory, he had saved her life and she had saved his; and it was like that fact had somehow erased all doubts from both their minds, making it quite clear how they felt about each other. Every time Elphaba felt uncertain, doubting the fact that Fiyero loved her – because, well, it _was_ highly unlikely that a handsome prince like him would fall for someone like her – she thought of the love, care, and worry for her she'd seen in him that day; and she knew it was much the same for him. They had come a long way together, but especially that day had cemented the foundation of their relationship. No matter how horrible and scary it had been at the time, she wouldn't change it for the world, because it had led her here.

It had led her home.

* * *

 **Well, isn't that precious? Feel free to drop me a review to let me know how much you had to pay your dentist after reading this.**

 **Look out for some drabbles with which I'll procrastinate the posting of _Fairest of Them All_ a bit more until I have some more chapters pre-written.**


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